


no place i'd rather be

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: FenHawke Writing Challenge [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Caretaking, Fluff, Food Poisoning, M/M, Sickfic, blame the Hanged Man tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>Prompt: sickfic</b>
</p><p>The very tips of his ears seemed to tremble from how hard he was shaking. Hawke frowned and ran his hand up his back, pulling his fingers through the hair clinging to the sweat at the nape of Fenris's neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no place i'd rather be

**Author's Note:**

> Generic general prompt because I am a sucker for sickfic (ironically, my fingers got ahead of my brain and tried to combine those words just now, so I nearly said that I'm a sickfuck which is entirely debatable ~~notreallyi'mjustangstylooool~~ )
> 
> Title is from _No Place I'd Rather Be_ by Clean Bandit. Don't own the song or _Dragon Age_. Thanks for reading!

It had to have been the Hanged Man.

Either that, or Fenris had gotten into something that he shouldn't have while he'd been out on that latest mercenary job. Hawke wasn't sure, but he pressed circles into Fenris's back with the heel of his hand, anyway.

Fenris swore and spat as he resurfaced from the latest bout of vomiting. The very tips of his ears seemed to tremble from how hard he was shaking. Hawke frowned and ran his hand up his back, pulling his fingers through the hair clinging to the sweat at the nape of Fenris's neck. "V-Venh-" Fenris choked off, fingers tenuous over the edge of the bucket and Hawke's other hand, his small body wracked with heaves as he retched uselessly.

Hawke smiled thinly, continuing to rub those soothing circles onto Fenris's skin, and managed to quip out a "Better out than in," even though he desperately wanted to send Bodahn to fetch Anders to check him out and see if he could pinpoint the cause. He wouldn't, not yet, because Fenris wouldn't _like it_... but if this continued, Fenris was just going to have to take into consideration what Hawke did not like, and that was seeing Fenris so damn sick.

Fenris was panting when he was finally was able to take the moment to catch his breath, the dry heaves fruitless and still trying nonetheless. Hawke gently pried the bucket away from Fenris's fingers and set it aside, stretching to grab the cup of water that he'd set out earlier. "Here, here. Drink some of this." It was all he could do to get Fenris to drink anything and keep it down, just another tick on the list of _why we should be getting medical attention_. It had seemed to be getting better, a little, until this latest bout, though...

Hawke guided the cup to Fenris's lips and held it for him as he took a gulp, and almost dropped said cup when Fenris spluttered the water all over himself and Hawke. "Shit, Fen- hang on-"

"'s _hot_ ," Fenris hissed, scrubbing his hand against his mouth. "Disgusting."

He didn't know what he expected; it had been sitting out for awhile. But he should have noticed that himself, he was the only one who was healthy.

"Sorry."

"... Sorry."

They said it at the same time, apologizing for different things. Hawke gave him the same worried smile he had sporting for the day, and kissed Fenris's temple. "Don't worry about it. I'll get some that's cold in a minute. Maybe take this off in the meantime?" he suggested, plucking at Fenris's wet shirt. "You're soaking in sweat, anyway."

Fenris's response was no more than a disgruntled noise, but he wiggled around enough so that he could pull at his shirt.

"Let me." Hawke reached drop, hooking the hem of the elf's shirt between his fingers and pulling it up and over his head gently, mindful of the ears. "There. Much better. Let me get you one of mine-"

Fenris clutched at Hawke's wrist as he started to stand, effectively pulling him back down on the bed next to him. "Stay," he rasped.

"I was just going to get you a shirt. And some cold water."

"It will wait." Fenris slumped back against Hawke's chest, ducking his head underneath the Champion's head. He was still shaking.

Hawke wrapped his arms around him, heedless of sweat and the smell of sick. If he could hold him protectively to his chest just for now, then, by the Maker, he would. He might not be able to make him better, but he'd try to make him _feel_ better, at least. "I can call for Orana. She can tend us in the meantime. Bring some more water and elfroot."

"Yes," Fenris replied listlessly. The hoarseness in his voice was being replaced with drowsiness, and Hawke prayed that he would be able to get some good sleep in this time. "In a moment..."

"Of course." Hawke kissed the top of his head, swept his hair behind his ear. "Let me know if you want something."

Fenris mumbled something that was lost in the confines of Hawke's skin. Hawke didn't press him, just continued to stroke his hair and hum softly, under his breath, as he held the elf drifting in his arms.

Fenris would be better in no time, Hawke would make certain of it. Until then, he was content to sit with him and hold him close, nursing him back to health. Worried - but content. Even if Fenris had kind of thrown up on his feet on the way home.

In sickness and in health. Hawke smiled softly and tightened his grip around the elf.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me on Tumblr! [@cumberbatchcritter](http://cumberbatchcritter.tumblr.com)


End file.
